


I Just Want to Have Something to Do

by madrefiero



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, M/M, Mohawkeye, Pining, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 05:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18359795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madrefiero/pseuds/madrefiero
Summary: For the @mandatoryfunday Week 3 WinterHawk prompt: PunkClint is the new guy at school. He's punk all the way, and popular jock Bucky is smitten from the first time he lays eyes on him. In an effort to hide his deafness, Clint refuses to wear his hearing aids at school, preferring to come across as an aloof jerk who ignores everyone. Then, Bucky catches him at a Halsey concert.





	I Just Want to Have Something to Do

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to @aw-hawkeye-yes on tumblr for the main idea. I couldn't have done this without you.

“Bullshit, Wilson,” Bucky snorted while Steve laughed at at Sam's story. He shook his head and didn't see the black and denim clad figure walking in his path before they collided. Bucky hadn't been hit that hard since he'd been forced to leave the football team. When he looked up, he saw what he thought had to be the most gorgeous guy he'd ever seen. He tall and broad shouldered, with a blond mohawk, and biceps that should be declared illegal. Jesus Christ, was that a full sleeve tattoo? 

 

“Hey sorry, pal. I wasn’t paying attention” Bucky smiled at him, all cocky charm, then noticed the schedule in his hands. “You're new here?”

 

His smile wasn't returned though, instead it was met with an angry glare and silence. The new guy pushed past them, and into the crowd of students rushing to class. Well, Bucky thought to himself, that's one way to make a first impression. He stared after Mohawkguy until the bell rang and he had to run to class to avoid being tardy. He walked into class, running his fingers through his hair just as the second bell rang.

 

During lunch period, Nat said that she heard he was a foster kid, orphaned when his parents died in a car crash. His brother was older and joined the circus, while Mohawkguy got stuck in the system. Sam said he heard the guy did time in juvie. Steve just scolded them all for gossiping, and Bucky couldn't do anything but stare at him. He decided the guy looked like a drummer from a punk band. How else would he have arms like that. 

 

After lunch, Bucky ignored his friends teasing him for staring, and headed to the science lab. He was surprised to see Mohawkguy at his table. He sat down beside him, not mentioning he was in his seat. If half of the rumors were true, he either had such shit luck that Bucky would let him sit wherever he wanted, or he'd knife him for bringing it up. Either way, the seat was his now. 

 

“Hey, I'm Bucky.”

 

He threw another dazzling smile at the new guy, who didn't look up until Bucky extended his hand. Mohawkguy just furrowed his brow, his eyes darting down to Bucky's letterman jacket for a split second. 

 

“M’Clint,” was all he said, grunted more like, before turning his back attention to the teacher. 

 

Bucky's face fell as he let his hand drop. He watched Mohawkguy, Clint, more than he watched the teacher, wondering what his deal was. The way his eyebrows scrunched up when he looked at Bucky made him think he just didn't like him. Maybe he had a thing against jocks. Neither Clint's purple tee shirt nor the black denim vest he wore had sleeves, both roughly torn off. There were various buttons decorating it as well as the ratty backpack he carried, most of them were bands Bucky never heard of. 

 

He was startled out of his thoughts when the bell rang, and Mohawkguy, Clint, shot out of the room. Bucky just frowned as he scooped his book into his bag and walked out to meet his friends, then headed out to track practice. At least the physical exertion would keep his mind off of what he was sure was a damn impressive physique underneath all those buttons Clint wore. 

 

He changed into his track gear, jogging a warm up lap before stripping down to just his shorts and a tank top. He rolled his left shoulder, still not entirely used to the prosthetic he wore as a result of the accident that ended his days of football. He glanced around, wondering if someone had mentioned it to Clint and that's why he gave him such a scowl earlier. 

 

“Get your shit together, Barnes. He's just a guy, and clearky not interested,” he grumbled to himself. 

 

He thought running would clear his head, normally that was his escape when he got too deep into his own head. He thought he would be able to focus on the feel of the wind against his face and the way the oxygen burned in his lungs as he pushed himself. It may have worked if the archery range wasn't just east of the track. As he left the ground to jump a hurdle, a flash of purple caught his eye when Clint drew the bow taut. As the arrow flew toward a lerfefr bullseye, Bucky caught his foot on the hurdle and went head over ass to the asphalt. Clint never looked his way.

 

He got up and waved off the trainer, checking to see if he'd scratched the arm too badly, then hustled off to the showers to hide his wounded ego. He didn't make it to the locker room before Nat was at his side, teasing. 

 

“You've got it that bad already? When you fall, you fall hard, huh Barnes?” She teased. 

 

“Shut it Natalia _. _ ” 

 

The next quarter went nearly exactly the same. Bucky pining after Clint, trying and failing to strike up a conversation that was more than a grunted greeting, Clint scowling and glaring, the rumors about Clint's past taking on a life of their own. Not even Nat’s near expert level hacking skills had managed to dig up much about him, other than that his parents had been killed some years back in a really bad car accident. 

 

“Hey, Buck, why don't you invite the new kid to the party Sam's throwing tonight?” Steve was the only one in their group who didn't tease him ruthlessly about his crush on Clint. He wouldn't blame him if he did. Bucky was eternally grateful for it too. 

 

“That's tonight? Shit. I can't come...I promised Becca I would take her into the city. Ma got her tickets to see Halsey for her birthday, and she can't drive yet.” 

 

Bucky didn't mind, if he was honest. Of all his family, Becca was his favorite. She was always cool beyond her years, and didn't tell a soul the time she caught Bucky making out with Steve one night and Nat the next. She yelled at him for it, but only because she'd had a crush on Steve since she was little. When he told her he was just trying to figure himself out, and that Steve and Nat both knew, she didn't even flinch. She was the first person he came out as bisexual to, and the only one in the family who knew about Clint. As much as he would hate missing one of Sam's parties, he would have fun spoiling his kid sister. 

 

Bucky and Becca were there early, they had general admission floor tickets and wanted to be sure to get a good view of the stage. It was halfway through the first set when she elbowed him, turning her attention away from the stage long enough to point off to their left. 

 

“Buck!” She tugged on his sleeve when he didn't turn fast enough. “Isn't that Mohawkguy over there? I mean I haven't spent hours gazing longingly at him like you, but you've waxed poetic about him for so long now that I think my stomach did a flip just looking at him.” 

 

“Nah, he wouldn't be here. He's into punk. Way more hardcore stuff than- holy fuck it's him. What the hell? Is he  _ singing _ ?!” 

 

Becca just laughed at her normally suave big brother tripping over his own tongue. “Go talk to him, you big idiot!”

 

He hesitated. Why should he bother? Clint had made it abundantly clear that not only was he not interested in even friendly conversation with Bucky, he didn't even want to breathe the same air as him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, ready to plant himself in place when Becca pushed him, and Clint laughed. His smile and the way his eyes lit up when he laughed was radiant.”

 

“Go. He's been looking at you since he got here, at least when he wasn’t singing along. If you've changed your mind and don't want him, I'll go ask him out myself.”

 

With one more nudge from his sister, Bucky walked across the floor to where Clint was standing there. He was still dressed in his normal clothes, bare arms and full sleeve on full display. He looked different though, younger and softer when he smiled. If Bucky thought there was any way he wasn't completely infatuated with this guy, that smile completely obliviated it. 

 

“Hey, Bucky right?”

 

All Bucky could do would nod stupidly. God, he was normally so much smoother than this. Why did Clint Barton drain all his brain cells? The guy smiled again. Oh yeah, that's why. 

 

“You're the last person I expected to see tonight. I mean, I wanted to see you...fuck, come on Barnes.” Clint's eyes danced with mirth, clearly entertained. “I mean, it's good to see you and not be glared at. I didn't imagine Halsey was your thing.”

 

Clint worried his bottom lip between his teeth, turning to look at the stage, and Bucky's eyes followed the line of his neck, imagining what it might be like to kiss him there. His thoughts were cut short when he noticed the purple plastic that circled part of his ear and where it connected. Was that a hearing aid? He was sure he would have noticed him wearing hearing aids before. 

 

“So, I'm deaf. Mostly deaf.” Clint tapped the purple BTE Bucky had just been staring at. “I like the punk scene, don't get me wrong. The music is amazing, and has substance. They're pretty fucking accepting too as long as you're not a complete douchecanoe. But the concerts are really fucking loud. It hurts my ears when I have these in, and I can't hear shit with them out. Please don't tell anyone.” 

 

The look he gave him was so vulnerable, that Bucky would have agreed to anything he asked just then. Bucky nodded his agreement, his confusion giving way to his own lopsided grin.

 

“I'll keep your secret as long as you admit Halsey is pretty dope. My sister is watching us like a hawk though, so she's probably noticed already. She wont tell. You have to stop ignoring me at school though.”

 

He added that last part with the hope that if nothing else, they could be friends.

 

“Deal.” Clint beamed and the light caught him, and Bucky was in love, or close to it.

 

They spent the rest of the concert singing along and getting to know each other a little better. Clint told him about his parents and his older brother, and how they'd actually run away from his their first foster home and joined the circus. A mishap with an exploding arrow was what cost him his hearing. Bucky told him about his own injury, and took off his jacket to show him the prosthetic. 

 

“Your arm is fucking metal. That's badass. Can I?” Clint asked tentatively as he reached out to touch it. “It sucks you lost your arm, but this is the coolest shit I've ever seen.”

 

For once, Bucky didn't feel self conscious about it. He always kept it covered if he wasn't on the track, wearing his letterman jacket even when it was too warm outside. 

 

“I'll make you a deal, you stop hiding your hearing aids at school and I'll stop hiding my arm. I bet you'd do really good in class if you didn't rely on reading lips. They don't even mess up your whole punk aesthetic. They suit you.”

 

Clint fucking blushed at that, and God it made Bucky want to kiss him stupid. After the show he and Becca walked Clint out to his car, the younger Barnes pretending not to watch as her brother scrawled his number onto Clint's hand. Maybe it was the high from the concert, or the way the moonlight lit up his face, but Bucky was feeling the moment. Judging by the way Clint was leaning into him, he was too. 

 

“Oh my God just kiss him already or we'll be late for curfew!” Becca shouted. 

 

Bucky laughed and pressed his lips to his before moment could turn awkward. While he may have been unsure of himself a second before, the way Clint melted against him brought back his natural swagger. He moved his mouth slowly, carefully teasing his lips open, teasing with just a hint of tongue before he pulled back. Clint looked wild-eyed and a little drunk, and Bucky was over the moon.

 

“See ya at school, Barton.”

 

He didn't stop smiling all the way home. Bucky and Becca laughed and sang along to cheesy pop songs all the way home. He told her everything he and Clint talked about and how it turned out he didn't actually hate Bucky. They ended up stay up all night, until they passed out just before dawn, with an ASL video playing on Becca's laptop. 

 

After school he found Clint at the archery range again. He stood there watching him shoot, admiring every curve of muscle on his arms and shoulders. Jesus, those arms were going to he then death of him. He was nervous as hell, but he'd practiced and practiced until he was sure he had it right. He hoped this worked and that he'd picked a song Clint actually knew. Surely he couldn't go wrong with the Ramones. He tapped Clint on the shoulder and gave an almost shy grin before he started signing clumsily.

 

_ Hanging out on Second Avenue _

_ Eating chicken v-i-n-d-a-l-o-o _

_ I just want to be with you _

_ I just want to have something to do _

 

Clint's face went from confusion to radiant in the time took Bucky to spell out “vindaloo.”

 

_ Will you go to Homecoming with me?  _

 

“Barnes, did you just ask me out using Ramones lyrics? I can't really say no to that, now can I?”

  
  



End file.
